


I Wanna Be The One

by lokiforrulerao3



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel, Thor - All Media Types, Thor - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 09:34:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2304995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokiforrulerao3/pseuds/lokiforrulerao3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Odin is a corporate giant, roping his sons in to carry on the legacy. Odin is the strong beating heart of the company, Thor the face and Loki the brains. Will the introduction of Sigyn, the daughter of the head of a rival company, stir things up? Probably. Eventual Loki & Sigyn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wanna Be The One

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a general idea of what I'd like to continue writing- depending on whether there is an audience for it. Tell me what you think, whether I should change writing styles or what have you. Enjoy!

There are times in everyone's life when you just don't have room for another person. You need space, you need time but most importantly, you need to be far away from expectation. I can't bring myself to engage in conversation, but nor can I fall apart in front of you. It is a delicate situation that can be easily devastated by spectators. I have many moments of time to myself because I demand them and if I do not get these moments of solitude then the jokes on them because I'll be so rude that solitude is the only state they wish to leave me in anyway. Some people would hear my name and immediately jump to the nickname 'arsehole'. I fully encourage this reaction, there are few ways I can defeat the oppressive label with the way I am and so, if you can't beat them- join them. My brother, on the other can crunching, knuckle splitting hand, is a true gift to humanity. As there are only two of us offspring it is only right that there be a sort of 'angel versus devil' complex. It seems that this was established from the very beginning of our childhood together. According to the old man I grew jealous of my siblings belongings and decided it would be best to steal his toys. Of course I had my own but you can never do worse with spares, right? However, another dimension of this terrible treatment on my behalf can be discovered in our nanny's version of the tale. The blonde one and I, the not blonde one, were playing on a sort of miniature carpet with more colours than usual in order to propose the use for small children, when the already bigger one hit me with his toy. It wasn't simply on that occasion either, the dog, the fish tank and the nanny had all fallen victim to the aggression of the plastic giraffe. Unimpressed by this treatment I apparently took the toy from him and hid it where man, child and beast would be safe from his unprompted abuse against us. So really, I was beginning my career in the criminal justice system and he was just expressing his keen sense of muscle use. When we were very young the family worried that I would be a cripple. In comparison to my brother I rarely moved or rolled on my own. Turns out I had found a better way to transport myself, turning up in the kitchen unannounced on dog-back whenever it suited me. We had a large very fluffy St. Bernard, long fur and big ears with a soft mouth and kind eyes. She got used to my foolish clambering about and the occasional accidental tug on the ear or tail by my brother or myself. However, soon our father got tired of the dog, odd really- as he did nothing with her, and was adamant that she was to be gotten rid of. I don't think we ever truly forgave him for that, though he did acquire a kitten soon after which dulled the pain somewhat. Only trouble was the kitten wouldn't chase after the ball and bring it back in quite the same manner as the dog did, greatly frustrating my brother and as for me, well its just silly to ride a cat, isn't it?

Being sons of a powerful man had its perks- incredible ones at that, but awful consequences too. You see, we were able to visit the most beautiful places the Earth has to offer but we wouldn't be seeing much of it as we'd be stuck in meetings and functions and the such. For this family there is no such thing as a 'family holiday'. In our early years my brother and I would be forced to dress up feeling like monkeys in suits, listen to something about finance or business in the Middle East before scampering off to seek the nearest source of entertainment and mischief. Usually this would be the hotel kitchens, as small boys we'd taste dishes from beneath the counter before they were taken out to be served to the higher end of society (once they'd seen a missing section of their dinner a soon to become the highly frustrated end of society). But eventually we grew too big for it, not that we were more mature- but we were simply too obvious. Two boys over six foot two sneaking into a kitchen simply was not possible. So naturally it turned to trying out bars and clubs and drugs that were placed into classes with letters- all good fun until you're arrested and put as headline news on some gossip website. Even then, my brother and I seemed to only get more popular the worse we behaved. Our father wouldn't accept it though and decided it was time to get us into the family business. This is where I return to the strong correlation between myself and the term 'arsehole'. 

It is all about business tactic. I chose the harsher way about things, don't take anybody's shit and use power to your advantage. But my brother, being my brother- being the angel child, decided to flirt. Of course not all clients and business partners were the sort you'd think would be won over by a little compliment of their hair and new outfit, but the way he did it was spectacular. A big warming smile, followed by a firm but friendly handshake or a quick kiss to the cheek along with some information passed to him by his PA (Danielle, this one was I believe) on the recent changes in the victims life followed by kind words and a false promise to catch up later that night. I didn't particularly mind it, my brother had always been the more 'poster boy' looking between us so that wasn't in any way different. The only problem was when matters of the heart were involved by means of Sigyn Gaskell entering a fundraiser meal representing her father's company. Long blonde hair, soft green eyes but with a keen sharpness about her and the way her silk dress fell over her hips. If ever I've been a fool about something, it was this- I knew I'd fallen for her at the very moment she refused to speak to Mr. Odinson for fear of his taking too much of her time. I grinned. I nearly laughed, I knew she was talking about my brother- but did she know much of me? For the past few years I'd stepped back from the public limelight, Thor was the face of the company, Odin the strong beating heart and I, Loki, the brains.


End file.
